


Chapter 71

by speakingofnarwhals



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 07:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5577388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speakingofnarwhals/pseuds/speakingofnarwhals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ch. 71 from Baz's POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter 71

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone's heard of ch 61, but what about 71?   
> I'm always a slut for someone being compelled to harm the one person they'd never want to hurt in all the world. That's the kind of angst I live for. So here, as my first contribution to the Carry On fandom, is ch. 71 from Baz's POV. 
> 
>  
> 
> Some quotes are taken directly from the book; I tried to italicize all of those instances.

It’s getting late. I need to go out and hunt, but instead I’m lying in bed, listening to Snow snore faintly on the couch. Our conversation from earlier is still rocking around my head, making it impossible to think. 

_I want to be your boyfriend. Your terrible boyfriend._

Crowley, I’m so weak. 

I sit up, look over at the couch. He told me not to watch him sleep this morning, but old habits die hard. His hair glints in the faint moonlight, perfect golden curls matted together. I want to brush my hands through them. 

In my head, I picture it. Walking over to the couch, brushing my fingers gently through his hair and down his cheek. Pressing a kiss to the tawny skin of his forehead, his cheek, his lips, pursed and soft in sleep. I imagine him waking up, smiling at me, returning my kiss with his considerable kissing ability. Swallowing hard, I imagine moving my kisses down his jawline, running my tongue across the vulnerable skin of his neck, and fangs slipping out to draw dark lines of blood along his beautiful throat...

Fuck, I need to feed. Shaking my head, I throw off the sheets and wrap up in warm clothes. It’s so nice in here, with Simon’s inescapable magic making the room several degrees warmer than it should be. I don’t want to go out in the snow and the cold, but I need to, before I do something I’ll regret. 

Before I leave, I take one last look around my warm room, my eyes coming to rest on Simon last of all. (My _boyfriend_. My terrible disastrous _boyfriend_. Crowley, the thought is making me giddy. I’m so damn pathetic. So incredibly pathetic.) 

I head out to the woods, head buried as deeply in the neck of my coat as I can get it. I wish Snow was here. With just a little bit of his magic, I could call a deer right up to the front door, probably. Of course, then I’d have to drain it right there on the doorstep. That thought takes the appeal right out of the idea. 

There’s nothing for it. I shove my way into the woods, breathing deeply. There are plenty of deer, there always has been, but now my family makes an effort to keep them here. I can smell the apple-y scent of a salt lick, but unfortunately there don’t appear to be any deer licking at it. They’re not very smart, but they’ve gotten wise over the years. They know when I come out to hunt, and they know I’ll check the easiest places first. 

Still, they’re just deer, and they can’t deny magic. As soon as I catch the scent of one, I cast the spell, “ **Doe, a deer!** ” and one comes trotting toward me. I try not to waste magic catching them (for some stupid reason I feel like it’s cheating) but I’m cold and tired and I want to go back to my room. I drain the doe quickly. I’m nearly done when I hear a rustle in the woods behind me. There’s no smell, but suddenly the air is dry and gritty. There’s a sensation like nails dragging at my skin, and I whirl around, because it’s the Humdrum, I know it is... 

There’s a boy standing behind me. Curly hair, big, blue eyes that would look innocent on most children, but he’s squinting them in a way that just looks surly. Ratty jeans, damned red ball...

“Simon?” I ask, because it’s him, but he’s so young. I can’t quite wrap my mind around it, what might be happening. A Visiting? Am I hallucinating? 

The boy shakes his head, “No,” he leers, and I lean down to get a closer look, because of course it’s Simon, it’s his voice, his face.... He considers me for a moment, blue eyes thoughtful. “You’ll do,” he says, reaching up to put a hand on my cheek. 

I’m full. For fuck’s sake, I just drank an entire deer. But the instant he touches me, I’m starving. Not just hungry, completely empty, devoid. Like in a million years, I’ll never feel full again. I stagger away from him like I’ve been burned. Simon laughs, a cruel child’s laugh. 

I feel weak, shaky. I lean against a tree, trying to catch my breath, trying to _think_

I’m so fucking hungry. Crowley, I’m fucking starving. 

I smell something so deliriously good my head spins. Smoke, magic, blood, magic... _Simon_. 

I feel his magic before I see him. I feel it, glorious, bright, pouring out of him, so much it’s impossible to imagine that he could ever keep it all in... My mouth waters. My fangs were already out, but now they ache in my jaws. I groan. The forest glows with magic. 

“ _Simon_ ,” I call out, and I don’t know what I’m doing. Warning him? Luring him? I’m so empty. He’s so full. 

“ _Baz, are you okay?_ ” Simon calls, and I know it’s him this time, the real one. The one who knows I’m a vampire and doesn’t care. The one who kissed me in fire, saved my life. I love him, Crowley, I love him. I want him. I want him in a thousand different ways, and at this moment none of them are good. 

“ _No, no... Simon_!” I need him. I need him to stay alive. I need him to get away from me. 

So of course, the idiot rushes closer, calling my name. I back away from him, trying to form words, trying to warn him, “ _Something’s wrong,_ ” I manage, “ _I’m hungry_.” 

He doesn’t get it. “ _Baz, you’re always hungry_.” 

I try to explain. It’s so hard to think, hard to ignore the hollowness long enough to speak. My fangs feel too long in my mouth, caging in my words. I tell him that I saw him. He says something, something about the Humdrum, I think. I can’t hear him right, not with this gaping emptiness sucking at me. 

“ _Baz, stop. Let me help you._ ” he begs, and I want to. How will he help me, though? There’s only one vision in my mind, fangs digging into his skin. I can’t let it happen. 

I hear Simon - the other one - behind me. He reaches out, puts a hand on my spine. I try to shy away from it. I’m filled with a sudden, visceral terror. I don’t know how I could possibly be more empty, but his touch is making it worse. I feel unhinged, adrift. Simon is full of magic and life and blood, and I’m so empty. I look at him, and he’s never seemed more edible. 

“ _Get away, Simon. I’m hungry,_ ” I beg, but he’s getting closer. He’s not moving though, I am. He’s like a magnet, like gravity, inexorably pulling me forward. I can’t stop, and he won’t budge. 

“ _What are you hungry for, Baz?_ ” he asks, and it’s such a stupid fucking question I can’t stand it. 

“ _For you!_ ” I shout, “ _For magic, for blood, for magic— for everything. For you. For magic._ ” I don’t know, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter, whatever it is, he has it. I want to take it, I want to rip it from his throat. 

I’m shaking my head, trying to shake off the emptiness. It won’t go, it won’t leave me be. I can’t stop. _I can’t_. 

I surge forward. I’ve never been more monstrous than at this moment, but I don’t _feel_ that way. I don’t feel anything. I tear a tree from the ground, and I never knew I could do that. I never knew I could knock Simon to the ground so easily, that I could open my jaws over his neck without a second thought. He has my head between his palms, like he did when he kissed me, and they’re warm, so warm. 

“ _I’m so hungry,_ ” I whimper. I am so pathetic, so weak. I love him, what am I doing? “ _And you’re so full,_ ” He is, he is, I can’t stand it...

“ _You can have it,_ ” he says, meeting my eyes, “ _Baz. You know you can have it._ ”

His fist is in my hair, pulling my head back. I feel his magic, burning like liquid fire. It’s life, pouring back into me. I’ve never felt so much relief in my life. I let out a sob, because now, at this moment, I feel alive as he thinks I am.


End file.
